


Tactical Negotiations are a Thing, Right?

by CavannaRose



Series: Walking Dead Fics [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Gen, Killing, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Eugene and Abraham encountered someone else before Rosita's group, and everything with this new world requires negotiating.





	Tactical Negotiations are a Thing, Right?

Zombies. Of all the horror movie cliches, this was the one that ended up being real? The young woman was sitting on the floor, a kitchen cleaver in one hand and a barely useful 9mm gun on the ground by her right thigh. After sealing up the two stairwells, she'd finally managed to clear out all the apartments here on the top floor of the building. Sighing she stood, cracking open a window and starting the unpleasant process of hauling each of the decaying corpses up and over the sill to tumble the four stories to the ground. It wasn't the tallest building around, but it was off the ground, and small enough for her to manage on her own. The kid had died on the way up from the last town and she just... she didn't have what it took to go on anymore. This was it. She'd stay here. Once the fourth floor resources were done she'd clear out the second floor and so on. And once the building was out of food and stuff? Well, the 9mm sucked against walkers but should blow through the upper palate of her mouth just fine. There was no way in hell she was becoming one of those... things out there. Not a damn chance. Bodies cleared she went down the hall, closing all the heavy apartment doors... just in case. Open doors made her nervous these days, and picked the apartment with the largest bed and cleanest sheets. It would be nice to sleep like a person again.

A sound woke her and she was on her feet in the blink of an eye, knife and gun in hand as she moved into the darkest corner of the room. It hadn't been the shuffle of zombie feet, but these days humans were just as dangerous as the dead. Her knuckles whitened around the hilt of the blade, and she held her breath. It was one thing deciding you were ready to die, it was a whole different thing to have death sneak up on you early.

"I am unconvinced that this is an acceptable location to stop for the evening, Sergeant. Between the discarded corpses scattered about the exterior of the building and the empty cupboards in several of the apartments I am convinced that another individual, or perhaps a group of individuals, is residing here."

"I don't give a monkey's left nut what you think, Eugene. You ain't hardly a tactician, and I'm so tired my balls are fucking sore. Finish checking the rooms and then we're gonna bunk down for the night in here. If anyone else happens to be 'round we'll deal with them in the daylight."

Before she could move the door opened, revealing a slightly overweight gentleman... with a mullet? Oh for fucks sake... "That's far enough, Jethro. You and your little army buddy can just head right back out where you came from. These are my digs."

Eugene froze, eyes riveted to the gun being brandished by the young woman. She nearly sneered as she watched him shiver. What on earth was this guy doing out here? How had he survived? Clearly he was not the type to stand and fight. Things became a little clearer to her when his larger companion pushed him aside. Rifle in hand the tall, musclebound redhead took up the entire doorway. The young woman took a second to admire... to take stock of his muscles and form. Not admire. That would be stupid. He was definitely one of the biggest dudes she'd ever seen. Definitely ex-military of some kind, she'd had enough friends in the service to recognize the look.

"Welcome to the party, army-boy. Your boyfriend here just about wet his pants so I'm not sure he understood the memo. This. Is, My. Place. Get. Out. Is that simple enough for you?"

Abraham flashed her a dangerous set of teeth. "From where I'm standing there's two of us and one of you, and I've got a helluva lot more weapons. Perhaps it's you whose gonna be moving along."

If she had any fault, it was stubborness. Her chin set stubbornly and she aimed her little 9mm right at the big ginger's eye. "Buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but I swear to fuck that I am not going anywhere. Now you can walk away with two good eyes, or one and a hankering for brains, that's your choice."

"You got balls, kid, but you've got a better chance of picking a turd up by the clean end then winning this fight."

Just then Eugene piped up. "If we all agreed not to shoot each other there's no reason we can't all stay here. Abraham and I have to move on in the morning."

She barely graced him with a look. "I don't converse with quivering jellyfish sporting mullets. So 'Abraham' and yourself can just hold hands and skip along out of here."

The distraction had been enough. The big guy moved faster than she could ever have guessed and suddenly he had her weapons and she was backed into the corner, all that muscular chest blocking her field of vision. "Now, maybe we can come to some kind of agreement, what do you think?"


End file.
